Our Existence
by Graphic Horrors
Summary: (MANGA SPOILERS). There was an eternity of distance between her and that sickening village known as her home. The journey would be near impossible to make alone, she needed Reiner and Bertholdt, whether she liked it or not. They would make it home, they could do it, because there was an infinity of possibilities out there, and that meant there was still a chance for hope.
1. Chapter 1

This story has been rewritten as I became displeased with the quality of writing which I produced (which was pitiful), and I hope only to please my readers and offer them the feast of entertainment that they hunger for. I would also like to inform any of the readers who witnessed the disaster that was the original version of this story that I would like to apologise, it has been revised and modified to a more appropriate state of being. I've been intrigued by some theories on tumblr (and the rest of the internet) and some of them will be reflected in this story, because they sounded pretty interesting, in case some things seem unusual or don't make sense. I would finally like to add that the first chapter of the manga for this story will be posted up on both deviantart and tumblr sometime in summer, if any of my followers would be interested that is, as a few have expressed their curiousity.

With much gratitude, Horrors.

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The true realisation of hell came not from the experience of tragedy, or fear or hardship, but in fact, it was the postonement of penance and absolution. Annie was hardly ignorant to the concept. Despite the knowledge that everything must come to an end, one way or the other, finality seemed scarce for creatures such as herself.

There had always been a possibility that there was simply no future for her, or rather, none outside the crystalisation she'd encased herself in. She still remained with a sustained inclination that there was to be no after for her. Even from the very beginning she knew her life would never reach the summit of what others had called _truly living_. She scarcely knew what the beginning even was anymore. Was it when they first charged the walls? Was it when she first met _them_? Or was it before all that? Perhaps, it was when her father was abandoned outside the walls where her mother found him wandering alone desperately. To what mindless howl in the records of history did she owe her life? It wasn't like it mattered in the slightest, maybe her beginning was a predetermination by the stars themselves, a prescursor of the horrors which were to unfold (including her birth, of course).

Perhaps then, hell, in fact was the identity of human nature itself. It could have been an infinity of possibilities. From the point humanity was born into the dirt of the earth to the inevitable stage of it's long awaited finale, there could be an endless assortment of possibilities. Would a person grow old? Would they die young? Would they experience love and heartbreak? Would they be great or small or be easily forgotten? The possibilities were truly endless. It was beautifully tragic in some cruel sort of way, as it may never matter in the end, especially not to Annie.

But it was almost too idiotic to contemplate, as if someone were to ask why a flower ever bloomed when it was guaranteed to wither in the fall, and then be foolish enough to expect an answer that wasn't naive.

What then would become of _her_? Was she to wither away when the fall came? Was she to face the rightful wrath of judgement for her crimes? Was she ever to be freed, or to escape, to ever go home? What was to be her finale? At that time, she believed she had no future, and knew in fact, that she had no real denouement. All she had was an infinity; a never ending hell inside her head, too deep and too obscured for her to avoid drowning in the fear of hope.

There was nothing but the torment lurking around her dearest dreams and memories, anything that came close to pleasurable was faint, or was ripped apart in a similar way that a wolf would devour a fawn. She hated it. She didn't want to stay in that kind of hell; one without certainty. She didn't want to stay in an infinity, with nothing more than her own demented mind to keep her company.

How long had it been since she lost her way? How long would it take for someone, anyone, to just help her, save her, let her go, let her die. In all honesty, anything seemed sweet in contrast to the tasteless echo she belonged to. But she realised no one was ever going to give her the relief she craved. She would be left until the crystal shattered, or melted, or whatever it might do in the end, if it ever did anything.

It struck her again, and again and again, the thought that she could never see her home again. She could never taste the brilliant crisp winter air, nor touch the steaming moist earth in the hot summer months, never again could she see her father, or listen to his rants or lectures.

_"Why would you want to?" _Asked a boy she once knew, his voice cool and frail, similar in tone to a wounded bear that had just awoken from it's slumber.

She smiled at the familiar honestly he once had. He helped her to visualise her home amidst the forests, rivers and mountains, he helped her to dream another dream. An inhale was taken with a great deal of strength, but Annie took in no scent, no life and disappointingly no reality, she exhaled tiredly. It was a paper world after all, and it could so easily be set alight, she feared that more than anything in her onslaught of madness.

_"You're dead," _gently she spoke, as she stood with her back to him, among the final snows of winter in the valley of her mother's homeland. It was in that place that she had spent the happiest moments of her life.

Annie heard him chuckle behind her, as if he barely seemed insulted by her comment of his lack of being. He merely coughed as he gave her an answer, _"nice to see you too, you cold, heartless bitch."_

She frowned at the sea of clouds beneath her feet, it was so soft, so kind, so very beautiful. Tragically, the cloud began to solidify, and melt down into an ocean of cold, harsh slush. A tremble worked it's way up her spinal column, and she felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

_"Would you like me to tell you it's all gonna be okay?" _He asked somberly, and by the frequent sound of the tracking of sludge, she made the assumption he was coming closer to her. _"Or do you want me to repeat the harsh reality of your situation, that you surely already know? I would suggest the more comforting one, but you're a pessimist, aren't you?"_

She wouldn't bring herself to offer a reply, of any sort, clearly he knew whatever she was going to say, he was part of her mentality after all, a figure of her imagination. It wasn't until she felt his arms snake around her hips that she couldn't not look back at him. She twisted her head to the side, which (despite the mildly painful crook) allowed her the chance to absorb his features. She caught sight of that dark set of hair, which was still blacker than any night sky. His face pushed down, closer to hers, cast over her shoulder for a softer perch. It appeared that he'd grown since she'd last saw him, as if he was still alive and aging with her and the others.

His eyes, they were much like the rivers, still that dilute sapphire colour. His eyes met hers, as if to actually see her. No one had looked her in the eyes the way he had.

_"I'm sorry, I know you hated this," _his eyes finally turned from hers, and she could avert her gaze similarly. Annie was still unsure of how she felt towards his staring, even after so many years. It wasn't a shy or curious glimmer, not the kind that Bertholdt used to give, nor was it challenging or rough, like Reiner's had been, nor had it been like her father's. Her father always looked at her as if he was afraid somehow, not of her, but something. Not _him_ though, he seemed to be in search of something when he looked at her, in some insanely focused attempt to find something that he knew absolutely nothing about.

_"You're dead..." _She said it again, as if somehow it made it easier to accept. His fingers hooked together against her belly, and his palms layed flat against her white (and dirtied) hoodie. He sighed, and it tickled her neck. _"Yeah..." _the whisper came in an enervated manner, _"here though, I'm still alive. It's not enough, I know, but this is all I have now. Better than nothing I suppose..."_

_"Berik," _his name escaped her pink lips, and she couldn't help but look down at those pale eyes of his, they were attempting to find her again. She didn't want him to ever find her, because she believed that in that moment, he would leave her after he finally found what he'd been looking for.

_"Don't believe that, Annie. I existed, I met you, and here, I'll stay, because you still think of me... I'll stay with you as long as you want me, or rather, as long as you need me." _His nose then moved, and it nuzzled against the bare flesh of her neck. It surprised her that she didn't seem to mind, it was comforting, and that was all she wanted at the time. It was the smile she felt pressed against her that made a discomforting shudder elevate, his lips taunted her shivering skin.

_"Please don't ruin this," _she said, and brought a hand up to hold over his. _"You've ruined enough already."_

_"Fuck you," _he retorted immediately, resting his cheek against her shoulder so she could see his grin. _"Sure, I did, I fucked up, and now I'm dead. You did too though, you cared too much about too many people. Remember Eren? He tore you apart like you were nothing but a piece of paper, and it hurt, didn't it? That it was _him _who did it. __You ruined your own future there and then. We all fuck up, and ruin things, and we know the consequences are dire, but we do what we want because we are all selfish children that believed it was the right thing to do..."_

_"Aren't we just..." _she breathed, leaning her head back against him, staring up to the empty skies.

He lifted himself then, and kept his hold around her so she wouldn't lose her balance when he rose. She found herself looking up at him, it always annoyed her that she was smaller than him (and almost everyone else), not that she would ever admit it out loud. She felt his arms around her chest, it happened to be the lowest he could reach, he was pretty tall. Her brows furrowed, and (without her knowledge, or permission) she pouted, _"you shouldn't be so tall."_

He laughed at that, but it turned into a ragged cough, which he kept away from her direction. _"Must be terrible around someone like Bertholdt then..."_

_"You have no idea..." _She was surprised by her own reply, and by her contribution to the conversation. That's one of the reasons why she hated Berik, he knew how to make her talk.

_"I think it's ending, you know?" _He whined, looking up at the still white sky.

Her hand dropped from his and to her side, symmetrical to her other hand. She asked him then _"what's ending?"_

_"This," _he answered, bending his chin over her forehead. _"The crystal won't last forever, you're still beating heart is inside it, melting the shell away like it's ice."_

Annie considered his words for a moment, but shook away the idea. _"Don't ruin this."_

_"I'm not doing anything, Annie," _his hands unclasped, and his arms fell away from her. He left her there, and took a step back, and shook his own head, and hid his face when he saw her turn to him. _"Everything must come to an end, right?..." _His voice croaked as he spoke, she could here the pain, and the fear. _"Not you though, not yet, you'll get out, Annie... You'll survive, and find those two idiots. You're gonna make it home, all three of you, promise yourself that."_

She held herself, as the air suddenly became colder, she even toyed with the notion that perhaps it was because she couldn't feel his warmth anymore.

_"I'm dead," _he reminded her, lifting his head to reveal to her his smile, _"and guess what, Annie? You're still so very much alive. You're strong, but you still need to fight to keep your place in this fucked up world, and it's gonna hurt so much, in a million different ways... But Annie... I'm telling you, it's worth the heartache, the shame, the fear... Trust me, it's better than being dead. You may not realise it, but people still care about you, they don't want you to disappear from their lives; you're dad, and even Reiner and Bertholdt, despite what you may believe. Don't make all of what's happened be for nothing, stick you fingers up at the world and live on."_

_"What's the point in fighting? When I know the victor of life isn't any of the individuals, the great or small, or the rich or poor. The world out there is ruled by one king; his name is death, and he's an indifferent and merciless warrior."_

_"I think he should go fuck himself," _he grinned, as he folded his arms across his stiff chest. _"He doesn't recognise your value to the world. Sure, you may have killed a lot of people, but you've saved some too! Eren would be dead now without the things you taught him, meaning everyone in the walls would have been killed, by themselves or by the Titans, you saved them all, even if you did try to kill them in the first place! Connie, you saved him that one time, and uh... You get the idea though, Annie. Think of all that you did and all that you could do. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, I know that, but it's not as bad as it could be. You fight because you were born into this world, it's your birthright to exist, and it's your choice in whether you fight for that existence. So fight for whatever reason, and live on, time's running out for you to make the choice again."_

It occured to her that Berik sounded remarkably like Eren did, it was uncanny and uncomfortable for her. It almost made her not want to listen, it wasn't Berik who he spoke, it was her memory of him, an echo, mixed with all the other memories. _"Berik. Do you know why a flower blooms? Even though it's guaranteed to wither in the fall," _she wanted to spite him, and insult his lecture, so he would shut his mouth and cease to exist once more.

He shook his head in reply, and turned from her to leave. He must have thought the same as everyone else then, _what's the point? _She was a terrible person, and tried sometimes to make people leave her alone, or stop talking to her, or even hate her, because she believed that she deserved nothing but a cold shoulder. Ever since she was a young child, she was taught that people despised her. She was an abomination, something that shouldn't have existed in the first place, a halfer, not belonging to one or the other, but always on the enemy lines. Her father, her mother, she despised them both for forcing her in the middle of a battlefield of blood and place. She almost didn't hear Berik speak for boiling rage inside her head, and heart, _"I guess it doesn't matter in the end, Annie. I think a flower is beautiful while it lasts, that's all."_

She hated him more than anyone. Berik was the single person in their hometown who cared about her when he never had to. With those eyes he had made her feel like she was one of them, just another person trying to live another day. He lied to her though, he made her feel at home, and safe. They all hated her though, all of the people at home, because of her father, that bastard from the walls. Berik gave her hope, and then he was selfish enough to die and take it away, he escaped from the mission they had, and avoided all the terror and guilt and misery they were forced to endure over those years. _Everyone_ hated her.

Her eyes pricked with tears, and she hid her face in her hands so he couldn't see her. A great pain erupted in her chest, it spread through her veins, it weakened her limbs and dried out her throat. That's one of the reasons why she loved him; he always knew how to make her feel human again.

He left her after that, left her to the reality she escaped, to the darkness of a deafeningly silent room. She awoke in pain, tangled in an array of jerking chains which knotted against her, and held her in place above the soaked wooden platform. She couldn't see very well, or hear, or smell, or taste, but she could certainly feel the fire in her chest, and it became clear she was still crying when a whimper forced it's way past her vocal cords.

They found her like that, Annie guessed, as they freed her from the hanging chains on the walls and ceiling, and then secured her again, so that she couldn't inflict harm upon herself or others. They dragged her away somewhere, with her hands chained behind her back and covered in some rough fabric so she couldn't scratch or cut, and her mouth was binded so she couldn't bite her tongue, or speak.

She couldn't hear what the guards spoke of her, or to each other, perhaps they didn't say anything. But Annie hushed herself, like she'd practised all her life, no more crying. She sunk into her thoughts to allow what was going to happen pass.

There was an eternity of distance between her and that sickening village known as her home. The journey would be near impossible to make alone, she needed Reiner and Bertholdt, whether she liked it or not. They would make it home, they could do it, because there was an infinity of possibilities out there, and that meant there was still a chance for hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Annie could remember once she had been shown the Protean Mount.

Her father had took her there, and said that they were going to collect supplies. It was deviant to their daily life, and the start of something grave. Upon her recent reflections over the past couple of years, she should have realized that back then, but she was too young to understand the concept of tragedy.

It was the height of the summer months when they began the journey south. The Protean Mount was a small village midst the augment mountains of the never ending forest that suffocated the landscape, as her father had told her on numerous occasions. Fewer than a hundred people lived there, he said, and it was the most populated area of their homeland, among the many nomads roaming the surrounding area. She recollected her staring at him in disbelief, for such a place seemed unlikely to exist with so many people. Annie had only ever been with her father, after all. She had never seen another person.

Upon arrival at the village, her father had stopped her, and placed his hand atop her shoulder firmly. "Careful, Annie," he said.

She looked up at him, breathing through her mouth to collect enough air to fuel her racing heart, and of course, to aid in her outrageous body temperature. It was fair to say that Annie didn't exactly enjoy the summer heat. She nodded, although she didn't really understand what she was to be careful _of_.

Her father let out a long sigh, rubbing his face in a deliberate motion.

She studied his hidden face in the blinding glare of the sun. She thought he was tired, that the heat had finally got to him, but he did such things often, he was struggling with some great burden that was unknown to her back then.

Through his fingers, he glanced down at her confused expression and forced another one of his smiles, "it's okay, Annie, just be on your guard."

Her head bounced in a single swift motion before she followed him towards the village.

Annie's hesitation was washed away as she gazed upon the mass of wooden buildings that decorated the valley. There were people walking around, carrying buckets, containers, babies, there were men, women, and children too, although few. Her mouth gaped at the sight she had to behold, and her icy eyes dashed around in amazement.

After a sprint of time down the street, a few of the people began to look their way, and it was strange looks that they have them. They were dirty looks, she recalled.

"Isn't that...?" One man said to the other, and made no attempt to hush his voice.

"Yeah, the bastard that killed Emma's sister," another replied, and snorted, then spat at the earth.

_What did the earth ever do to you? _Annie remembered thinking. Then it clicked, her father had killed some woman? She glanced up at him briefly for some kind of insight that she never received.

The man spoke again, "is that the kid?"

"Of course it is, look at her" the other snorted.

Her father's hand tapped her shoulder. and she frowned up at him in silence.

"Shield yourself from it, you'll get far worse in time," he said, offering to her the slightest of smiles.

Annie shook his hand off her shoulder and looked back at the men, they had already gotten back to their previous tasks. "But why?" She dared to ask him.

"People need someone to blame, someone to hate, other than themselves. That's the way humans are," he informed her.

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and asked in a mumble, "who did you kill?"

He looked down at her with solid blue eyes and the fiercest of looks she'd ever been given. She'd received scoldings and was pushed in her training, but the look her father gave her that day taught her the greatest lesson she would ever learn.

_Keep your mouth shut._

She looked the other way and didn't speak another word.

Her excitement dulled, to an extent at the the least, until their journey came to an abrupt halt.

They stood facing a small house alongside several other homes,Annie had assumed. Her father hesitated, staring at the door in silence.

She looked up at him suspiciously, waiting to see what would happen next.

He knocked the door, his white knuckled drummed against the solid, dead oak.

Annie wondered who would answer. Some old man with a stick to aid his travels? A burly man his age that would strike him down with a viscous glare? A monster that her father swore didn't exist?

The door creaked open in a lazy fashion, harboring a lifetime or two of duty.

Her eyes had been pointed upwards to see who had opened the door, she had to do that with everyone who came close. Her height was tactful, but still a nuisance.

The person was short, not especially short, but shorter than most of the people she'd seen in the village. He was a young boy, with a scruffy look about him; rough and ready would suit to describe his appearance. His short blonde hair was ruffled, golden eyes staring up at her father with an thinly arched brow.

The boy scowled at her father, then down at her. Annie was taken aback by the look he gave them; hate-filled and skeptical. She lowered her head, and stared at him curiously past her falling fringe.

"Reiner, who is it?" The voice of a woman called from inside the house.

"Nobody!" He called back, the word cracked in his throat, and Annie tilted her head in confusion.

Her father sighed, and looked past the boy, who was called Reiner.

"For God's sake, Reiner! I only asked you to do me a favor, don't be so snarky!" The woman growled, and by the sound of wood scratching against the floor, she'd made to stand, "I'll just see myself now, shall I?"

The woman came to the door, and ushered the boy away with a frown. "Watch that attitude," she said as he left their sight in a huff.

She looked to her father, then down at Annie, and shook her head. "No," she sighed, "I can't, not now."

Annie studied the woman, she was clearly the boy's mother, her hair was the same light blonde, but her eyes were a light blue hazel, although her nose was softly dished. Her belly, Annie noticed most immediately, was swollen heavily.

"Emma, please, if I could just have a moment of your time..." Her father lowered his head apologetically, and glanced down at Annie. "I need your help, you know no one else will help us."

Emma, the woman, folded her arms and shook her head a moment, but sighed, "you may, but you can't stay long."

With that, she held the door open for them. Her father let her in the house first, giving the outside world a final glance.

"It's been a while, Emma. You're looking well," her father said, taking a chair to sit in the kitchen.

Annie stood near the door, not knowing what to do with herself. She spied around the house, at the pans and hanging game in the kitchen, to the covers and fire-pit of the living room. She held her arm, and scratched at the flushed flesh.

The woman held her swollen stomach, and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Reiner's grown too, last I seen him he was running around senseless, trying to kidnap little Annie."

Emma hummed, holding a chair in hesitation. "Reiner!" She called.

Reiner came down the stairs and into the room, he passed Annie with a frown. "What?"

His mother coughed.

"Yes, mom?"

She smiled, "take Annie upstairs, I need to talk to her father."

He snorted, "but-"

"Don't argue, you said you'd help," she ordered.

He huffed, turning to Annie, "come on."

Annie wanted to tell him the feeling was mutual, she hated him as much and he hated her, or at least, the company of one another. But she felt she had to do as she was told, it was all she knew after all. So she followed him, glancing back between Emma and her father.

_Emma's sister, _Annie recalled. Her father had killed her sister. Why had she been so accepting? Sure, she wasn't entirely happy with the presence of Annie and her father, but she let them enter her home. But why?

"Don't touch anything."

Annie looked up at Reiner as they ascended the stairs, her lips parted as she stared at him. No wonder he hated her, him she understood. But his mother? People, Annie decided, were strange beings.

She stopped halfway up the stairway, and held the banister to look back down at her father and the woman.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Reiner asked, the frown remained across his face as he turned around to look down on her.

She shook her head, "nothing. Just leave me."

"What? Why?"

She looked up at him, arching a brow. "You don't need to be around me if you don't want to."

He hummed, folding his arms. "I do if my mom says so, so..."

"Why?" She asked without thinking.

He stared at her, cocking a brow as though she was wearing a turtle on her head. "... Because she's my mom?"

She glanced back down at the room where her father and Emma talked, the woman had sat down by which point, holding her father's hand atop the table. Annie nodded, "I wonder... What it's like to have a mom sometimes."

Annie must have hit something inside of him when she said that, because it had shut him up from complaining.

"Come on, Annie," he said, and didn't look to see if she followed him further to their destination, which she did, after another look at the two below.

They reached a door at the top of the stairs, one of two. Reiner opened it, and they entered the new room.

She halted upon entry, standing it the doorway, as she looked in.

There was someone else in the room, another boy, but with far darker hair. He stared at her, sitting down on the bottom of a bunk bed at the edge of the room, next to the window. He was holding some sort of small book, it was a simple book, there didn't appear to be many pages from what she could tell. He was wearing a plain blue shirt, dirtied, but not ruined.

His stare came to an end, and he looked to Reiner for answers about the intruder.

"This is my little cousin, Annie," he said, pointed his thumb back at her as she sat next to the other boy.

She frowned at him, contemplating the word he used to describe her. "Cousin?" She asked, unable to resist her need for answers.

He stared at her puzzled, then scratched his head. "My mom's sister was your mom."

Involuntarily, she took a step back, and her eyes widened. It enlightened her, but at the same time, only served to confuse her further.

The boys exchanged a look, and Reiner shrugged. "You didn't know?"

She shook her head, and stared at her feet.

"Oh," he simply answered, and scratched his head again. "... Well, we're family, so, you know, you can sit down wherever you want... Just don't touch anything."

She looked about the room for a spot to sit, and questioned whether or not she should. She wanted to ask so much, but couldn't. It was better to keep her mouth shut.

She planted herself at the opposite side of the room from the two boys and crossed her legs.

"This is Bertholdt, just so you know," Reiner said, tapping the other boys shoulder.

The boy uttered out a faint, "hello," and looked back down at his book.

She nodded, and looked at the window. The village wasn't what she expected, and at that point, she just wanted to go home.

But, she didn't, not for a long time.


End file.
